He Should Have Asked
by Sybil Corvax
Summary: It is a painting that shall never be painted and Ludwig can only cry and want to ask these questions, just to have a chance to say simply one more thing to say to someone who will now never speak again.


**Hey guys! Yes, I'm back with another one-shot! Although, I admittedly was a little rushed with this one as I wrote it during one of my classes at school so I apologise if it shows that. Still, I like it so I'm posting it here haha.**

**Yes! Anyway, for the German, I admittedly used a translator as my own German knowledge is limited to like...four words. So, if the few bits of German in here aren't correct, I'm sorry, but I suppose it couldn't be helped.**

_Please Review_

***Edit* - Thank you very much for those who correct my horrid German XD Curse you translators for lying to me! D: Well, at least I can count on people for giving me the right answers :)**

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><p>A quiet ache in the depths of Gilbert's chest, but he ignored it as per usual. It wasn't something that he needed to focus on right now. His mind was on different and more important matters as he slipped on the gloves – from such distant times, but still as crisp and clean as they had been in their prime.<p>

He curled his fingers slightly as he stared at his palm before sighing, and reaching for the hilt of the weapon which now was tucked away under the Prussian blue longcoat; decorated with trims of red and brass buttons. It was a rush of victorious glory days that, this time, he didn't dare push away as he enjoyed the brief sweet taste of every bittersweet second of the reminiscence.

Silvery hair drifted into a pale face and ruby eyes were shut as his tiny smile widened into what could be called a 'shit-eating grin' that could rival the monster characteristics of a certain _someone_.

The memories of those glory days were enough to restore temporary vitality. Ludwig could see it in the way his older bruder held himself. That uniform – though aged – held such importance to _who _Gilbert had been raised to be. Who Gilbert had transformed into throughout the hundreds of years he had existed.

Ludwig didn't like the nauseating, worried feeling which began to burn up his oesophagus at the thought of that because it brought up an important question that he knew that he wasn't going to ask.

Gilbert probably didn't plan on telling him anyway.

"Oi, West, stop staring at me like that. It's creepy."

The German jerked slightly and blue eyes stared at his bruder, wide. An embarrassed flush was across his cheeks – not anything new. It was easy to embarrass Ludwig – even when he hadn't been thinking anything remotely….unsavoury.

"_Tut mir leid _, Bruder." The German muttered faintly and Gilbert stared at him for a long moment, slender silver eyebrow quirked and red eyes filled with wonder.

"Okay then." He muttered almost awkwardly before he grinned and posed in a way that his younger bruder assumed was supposed to be flattering.

Gilbert only succeeded in looking as cocky as he used to, but Ludwig supposed that was what he had been going for.

"I look fucking awesome. Like a sexy beast!" Gilbert cackled and Ludwig could only sigh, but allow a faint twitch of the lips; it was admittedly nice to see Gilbert in good spirits especially with all that had been happening lately.

Still, the unsettling feeling wouldn't go away and Ludwig felt the urge to ask 'What's all this for, Bruder?', but didn't for the sole sake of knowing that Gilbert wouldn't tell him.

Perhaps that was true, but now as he looks back upon it, he probably should have asked anyway.

Just to have one more thing to say to someone who will now, never speak again.

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><p>Ludwig compares his legs to cement at this point in time as they are numb and unable to move. Heavy.<p>

The cold British rain falls down upon the small number of people and Gilbert – his outfit bloody and tattered - is staring with wide ruby eyes almost maniacally grinning as he stares at the equally wild looking blonde in front of him.

The definition of wild between them is quite different though, Ludwig briefly notes as his blue eyes flicker between his bruder and who was once Alfred. The once handsome blonde with so much youth and playfulness and vitality and virtue who is now left a dead shell of what he used to be. Eyes of sky blue are darkened like the depths of the angry ocean (or perhaps an angry and drunk Gilbert) and his face is numb, dead, and evil as the devil.

It's the face of a monster.

A monster who has just ripped away the last hope of survival that Ludwig has – precious Gilbert who just grins and towers over Alfred as his open wound from the bullets leaks through the ripped holes in his once pristine outfit of glory.

"I- is that all you got, _Amerikanischer Bastard_?" Gilbert's voice is breathy and hoarse and blood with metallic hue trickles from pale lips.

Alfred says nothing and just grins back with that dead, monstrosity of an expression as he lifts his hand and fires the weapon again. Ludwig's masculinity dies the moment Gilbert gives a stumble and begins to cough, blood splattering to the ground as he cries out. It is Ludwig's cry, not Gilbert's as Gilbert would never sink to such a low.

The look the silver haired and perhaps very likely dying man tells Ludwig exactly that. Especially with the way he grins. How can Gilbert grin while in such pain? Would it not be torture? Though, Ludwig realises now when it least matters that this was most likely his bruder's plan the entire time.

And it is quick when Gilbert pulls the hilt of the long, sharp edged sword tucked under the tattered, bloody blue coat and even Alfred notices too late as the sharp end of the weapon is plunged through his chest.

"_Das ist das Ende_!"

And how is it Gilbert can sound so strong when clearly, this is the end of his very life?

Alfred gives a cry as the blade rips through him effortlessly and Ludwig recalls memories of watching his bruder sharpening the sword until it would sharpen no more.

Yes.

This was Gilbert's plan the entire time.

Ludwig regrets not asking more questions – not being able to help his bruder, but he supposes that there is nothing that he could have done. Yet, there is always a small chance…

"_Bruder_!" His legs finally have the ability to move and he runs out towards the crumpling form of Gilbert who stands gloriously over Alfred's bleeding form, grinning from ear to ear.

It is a beautiful painting that shall never be painted.

As Ludwig reaches him, Gilbert's light begins to fade. The moment the younger bruder wraps his fingers around the older bruder's arm in an attempt to keep him here, with him, forever, he is met with an expression unexpected and such a drastic change than what he was expecting.

Ludwig will never forget the look of terror in Gilbert's eyes because now, it becomes more than obvious that if there was but thing that the older bruder feared…

…it was disappearing and death.

"West..."

How can Ludwig tear his eyes from that? How can he comfort his bruder? Well, the truth is that he can't because now his hands go through the albino who makes no move to reach out for his own bruder as Ludwig desperately attempts to grab at him again - keep him here!

Gilbert is a ghost who can only stare with wide eyes, a look of resignation in his expression. Resignation. No, it is something more than that.

And that is when the grin appears again and he stands up straighter, but Ludwig can see right through it into the terrified soul of his bruder and he _knows _that it's simply a ruse and that Gilbert is absolutely terrified.

Ludwig cannot even comfort him as the last of his life fades away.

And so, Ludwig cries.

And he should ask for someone to return his bruder to him – for things to return as they had been before this agony had begun.

But he does not.

No would would answer him anyway.

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><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

_Tut mir leid _ - Sorry

_Amerikanischer Bastard_ - American bastard

_Das ist das Ende_ - This is the end


End file.
